The Villainess's Counterattack

Waking up as the villainess, I found a string of numbers floating above everyone's head.

My half-sister Lily had secretly seduced my fiancé and gotten pregnant. Terrified the Emperor would punish her, she forced me to swap marriages. Now I was supposed to marry her betrothed—a simpleton with a damaged mind.

Lily's mysterious number had already surpassed one hundred thousand, while mine sat at a measly few hundred.

Whether I married or not, I honestly didn't care. The only thing I wanted to figure out was what those numbers actually meant.

1

I woke up as Claire Ashford, the legitimate daughter of the Prime Minister. Kneeling before me was that pitiful little flower, my half-sister Lily, whom Father had brought back from the Western Province.

"Please, Sister, swap marriages with me!" Lily wept, tears streaming down her face.

What she meant was exchanging our betrothed husbands.

My fiancé was Prince Julian Warrington—brilliant, handsome, the most celebrated figure in the Capital City.

Lily's fiancé was Prince Evan Warrington, the laughingstock of the old Emperor's grandchildren. A simpleton with a broken mind, someone everyone could trample on.

The number above Lily's head skyrocketed from 30,147 to 60,894.

"Sister and Prince Julian have already... consummated, and I carry his child in my womb... Don't blame the Prince—he was drunk that night and mistook me for you." Lily's delicate frame trembled like a pear blossom in the rain. "I know I've wronged you, but what's done is done. If I marry Prince Evan now, it would be treason against the Emperor."

"Get up, dear. You're with child—you mustn't catch a chill." Even Claire's mother urged from the side. "What's done is done. Your sister won't hold it against you. If anything happens to you, we won't be able to explain it to Prince Julian when his wedding procession arrives."

I understood now. Lily had acted first and was now using emotional blackmail.

The number above Lily's head broke one hundred thousand and kept climbing.

"I know asking you to marry Prince Evan must be difficult for you." Lily rose unsteadily. "But if you insist on marrying Prince Julian, that's fine too. I'm generous enough to allow you into the household as a concubine."

I spat out a melon seed and clapped my hands casually. "Why all this theatrics? I agree to marry Prince Evan."

A simpleton was still more reliable than a drunken scumbag who couldn't keep his vows.

The number above my head instantly dropped to 376 and kept falling.

I waved my hand vigorously in the air, but couldn't touch those numbers.

What the hell was this strange setting? I'd never seen this episode before!

2

I married the simpleton Prince Evan, and the entire Ashford household thought I deserved it.

Even Father sighed heavily. "If you'd been kinder to Lily, you wouldn't have ended up like this."

Great.

I thought I'd gotten the heroine's script, but it turned out I was the villainess.

Just as I stepped into the bridal sedan, Lily rushed out from the mansion and dropped to her knees before it. "Thank you, Sister, for your generosity!"

The crowd whispered, blaming me for making my pregnant sister kneel.

It was bad luck for a bride to leave the sedan mid-procession, but under the weight of public opinion, I gave in.

"Sister, if you want something, you have to fight for it, right?" Lily grabbed my wrist, her sharp nail guards digging into my flesh. "I wish you a harmonious marriage, like mandarin ducks flying side by side, and a shared heart like peach and plum blossoms blooming together."

I shook off her hand. Lily fell backward, clutching her belly and wailing, "I know you're bitter, Sister, but the child in my womb is innocent! How can you be so cruel!"

What a poisonous flower!

I could practically see the heroine's halo glowing above her head.

Seeing Lily fall, Claire's mother rushed to help her up. "Take Lily back inside! What are you waiting for? Go fetch a doctor!"

The number above Lily's head shot up again, while mine plummeted to 63.

So bigger numbers were better?

The whole family escorted Lily back into the mansion. I climbed into the bridal sedan alone, with no one to see me off.

On my wedding day, I became the laughingstock of the entire Capital City.

3

Prince Evan's mansion didn't even have anyone to welcome the bride.

The place was decorated with lanterns and streamers, but the few servants and maids were all idle.

Several banquet tables were set up in the hall, but not a single guest sat at them.

The musicians played desperately into empty streets, and the opera troupe sang to thin air. It was more desolate than a funeral.

I sat under my red veil in the hall, dozing off, until an old servant finally came out. "Miss Ashford, please go inside and rest."

"Haven't we done the wedding ceremony yet?"

"Our Prince fell into a ditch while playing and was just found. The matrons are bathing and dressing him now. The ceremony will probably be delayed until late tonight."

Evan was a Prince, yet on his wedding day, he fell into a ditch and no one even noticed.

Finally, someone worse off than me.

I lifted my veil, grabbed some chopsticks, and started eating and drinking.

The old servant tried to stop me. "Miss Ashford, you mustn't lift the veil! It wards off evil spirits!"

Ward off evil? After transmigrating into this high-stakes mess, who could be more evil than me?

After eating my fill, I picked up my skirts and walked back to my room.

The servants and maids I passed didn't even bow, showing no respect at all. Some even snickered behind their hands.

I entered the inner courtyard, heading for my room, when I suddenly collided with a wall of flesh and nearly fell.

The person I'd bumped into clutched his chest and howled, pointing at my nose. "Who's the blind fool daring to crash into His Highness!"

I looked up. The man before me was tall and broad, his face painted stark white with two bright red rouge circles on his cheeks—one higher than the other—matching his uneven black eyebrows. Two garish red flowers were tucked behind his ears.

His appearance was bizarre enough, but when he started shouting, he looked like a ghost crawling out from under the moonlight. It was terrifying.

"Are you... Prince Evan?"

I steadied myself.

The number above Evan's head was over two hundred thousand—even higher than Lily's.

"What are you staring at! I don't know you!" Evan shoved me, making me stumble. "Get out! Get out!"

Evan was throwing a tantrum, so I didn't hold back. I wound up my fist and punched him right in the eye.

"Help! Someone's hitting me!"

Evan's flailing was completely uncoordinated, like a turtle paddling in water. It was like watching a child throw a fit. I had him pinned to the ground in no time.

I was furious too. I stomped on his chest. "Go ahead, scream! No one's coming to save you even if you scream your lungs out!"

Evan lowered his head, took a deep breath, and started sobbing. "Someone help! I'm being beaten to death! Why won't anyone come!"

I stopped.

The number above his head was even higher now, and mine had broken a thousand for the first time.

Did interacting with high-scoring people raise my score? Then why did my score keep dropping when I interacted with Lily?

I pulled back my leg and leaned in to look at Evan. "Are you crying?"

He held his breath, bit his lip, and turned away, deliberately ignoring me.

I moved to face him again. "Really crying?"

He glared at me, then sat on the ground, kicking his legs and crying even harder.

I watched his newly tailored silk pants get scuffed and didn't know whether to be angry or amused.

This guy didn't respond to kind words. Time for a different approach.

I rolled up my sleeves and flexed my nonexistent biceps. "Stop crying!"

He pouted with five-tenths grievance and forced back his tears. "Don't hit me anymore. It hurts."

This crazy, simpleton man was my husband.

This was the person I'd have to face the future with.

I crouched down in front of him and studied his face.

Evan studied me too, then said something completely unrelated. "You're ugly."

I glared at him fiercely. "Still better looking than you."

The number above Evan's head broke three hundred thousand, and mine crossed ten thousand.

Sure enough, interacting with Evan made the numbers skyrocket.

I was definitely latching onto this golden thigh.

"Hey, Evan, where are you going? Let's talk some more."

Evan stood up on his own, brushing the dust off his clothes. "I'm going to sleep. Don't bother me."

Just as he was about to close the door, I stuck my foot in the gap and squeezed inside.

Evan's brows furrowed. "I'm not used to sleeping with anyone else!"

Finally, someone who understood.

"What a coincidence. Neither am I." I kicked him out and slammed the door shut.

Evan wailed outside like an air raid siren.

I covered my ears with the blanket and glanced at the number above my head—12,711.

I had to figure out what this number meant as soon as possible.

4

When I woke up the next morning, the number above my head had stabilized, with only a slight drop.

I felt a bit relieved.

Having avoided the black lotus heroine and her main storyline, my chances of survival had increased significantly.

But a new problem arose. On the second day of marriage, the newlywed Prince had to pay respects to the Emperor and Empress Dowager.

Last night's low-quality brawl had left indelible marks on Evan's face, especially his right eye.

Even if Evan was crazy and simple, he was still a Prince. If the Emperor and Empress Dowager saw those bruises, I'd probably lose my head.

The old servant came to report. "Your Highness, Prince Evan says he's unwell and will skip today's audience."

"What's wrong with His Highness?"

"He was frightened yesterday and locked outside half the night. He's caught a chill."

I see.

The old servant continued. "Even if His Highness and you don't need to go to the palace, you still need to report to Eunuch An, who serves His Majesty."

What's meant to come will come.

I rushed to the backyard to find Evan.

Evan was wrapped in his robe, diving through the grass like a frantic rabbit looking for a hole. Several attendants were supposed to be watching him, but they were all gathered together whispering, enjoying his humiliation.

"Prince Evan..."

Evan looked up, and I was hit with an even stronger mental shock.

His face was painted even more garishly than yesterday, his head stuffed with flowers and grass. He looked uglier, and the number above his head had dropped to 58,792.

"Did His Highness wash up this morning?"

The maids and servants exchanged glances, none of them answering.

Evan was truly pitiful. His provisions and staff were less than a tenth of what other Princes received, and most of the people around him took advantage of his damaged mind, barely caring for him at all. As long as he was alive, that was enough.

He was probably just a minor male character mentioned in passing in the novel—either cannon fodder or a tool.

I cleared my throat. "Prince Evan may be simple-minded, but he's still a Prince. Aren't you afraid of being reported for treating him so carelessly?"

The maids and matrons covered their mouths and snickered. "Who would report us?"

I smiled at them. "I would."

The gossiping servants scattered.

"Evan, come out."

Evan crawled out of the grass, his face full of displeasure, clearly annoyed that I'd interrupted his fun.

I dragged Evan toward the well. He panicked, writhing like a freshly dug-up earthworm. "I'm not going over there! Don't push me in! I'm afraid of water!"

"Has someone pushed you in before?"

Evan nodded, his face full of terror.

"Don't worry. I just want to wash your face. I won't push you in."

I wet my handkerchief and scrubbed at the mess on his face.

Soon, the bucket of water was as murky as diluted rice milk.

"Your foundation is thicker than a city wall," I remarked, slowly tracing the contours of his face with the damp cloth, outlining his brows, moving behind his ears, and stopping at his jaw.

Evan had good bone structure. If he didn't paint himself like a monster every day, he might actually be handsome.

Suddenly, Evan grabbed my hand and pouted. "I don't want to wash anymore! It's annoying!"

"Evan! It's just washing your face, not killing you!"

Evan fled, kicking over the bucket.

The water spilled into a murky stream. I clutched the handkerchief, puzzled.

Why didn't Evan want anyone to see his face clearly?

5

Evan actually knew he had to report to Eunuch An.

First, he said he was fine. Then, he said he wanted a divorce from me.

The number above my head plummeted to rock bottom.

Eunuch An looked at me with pity—the Prime Minister's legitimate daughter couldn't even keep a simpleton Prince interested. Was there something wrong with her?

That night, the palace sent over a bunch of pills and tonics, all for strengthening the body.

Good news doesn't leave the house, but gossip travels a thousand miles.

By the next day, the whole Capital City was buzzing about my supposed inability to consummate the marriage.

Neighbors whispered behind their hands. "No wonder Miss Ashford swapped marriages at the last minute. She has issues of her own."

Even though my number had hit a new high, I couldn't stand the rumors.

When Eunuch An came to check on us again, I grabbed his sleeve and sobbed. "The problem is with Prince Evan, not me."

Eunuch An looked at me with even more pity—the Prime Minister's legitimate daughter was so insatiable she couldn't even leave a simpleton Prince alone.

That night, the palace sent over another batch of pills and tonics, all for cooling the blood and clearing the mind.

By the next day, the whole Capital City was buzzing about my excessive demands.

What the neighbors were saying now, I didn't want to know.

I was tired. Let it all burn.

6

On the sixth day after entering the mansion, Prince Julian showed up.

Evan was, as usual, digging through the grass in the backyard catching grasshoppers. I was sprawled out on the porch, soaking up the sun.

These past few days, my number had been fluctuating like an EKG, becoming harder and harder to predict.

The servants were as idle as ever, but with me watching, at least they didn't dare mock Evan's disability or deliberately mistreat him anymore.

This kind of life wasn't bad. Most villainesses died because they overreached. If I just did nothing and gave up, I'd probably survive.

I was fanning myself with bare feet, sipping tea and nibbling on a peach, when I looked up and saw Julian.

This was my first time meeting him.

As the male lead, the number above his head was terrifying—twice as high as Evan's.

I watched him suppress his anger, his face darkening, and started to wonder if the number represented anger.

Julian called softly, "Claire..."

I snapped back to reality. "What brings Prince Julian here?"

Newlyweds usually returned home on the ninth day. No one should be visiting during this time, especially not her ex-fiancé.

Julian was indeed handsome and virtuous, known for his charity to the poor. The old Emperor favored him deeply. The Crown Prince had been frail since childhood, and rumors said that if anything happened to him, the Emperor would likely pass the throne to Julian.

If Julian ascended, his wife would be Empress.

That position should have been mine. Now it belonged to Lily.

That was why the entire Ashford household, including Claire's mother, had to favor Lily.

Julian spoke again. "Claire, you've lost weight."

"I'm Prince Evan's wife now. Please don't use my given name." I raised an eyebrow and pointed to a seat with my fan. "Make yourself comfortable."

Julian clearly had no intention of sitting. "Lily miscarried. The child is gone."

I was stunned for a moment. "Are you here to accuse me?"

"I'm not blaming you."

"Oh. Then thank you for your understanding."

Julian's voice deepened. "Lily did what she did. It's natural for you to hate her. Even if the child is gone, I don't blame you."

I blinked. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know you acted out of anger and resentment. I've said I won't hold it against you, so there's no need to pretend."

I lowered my eyes, too tired to argue.

"Claire, you're being foolish." Julian continued when I didn't respond. "You know I mistook Lily for you when I was drunk. Why did you marry my brother out of spite? You knew he was a simpleton, yet you married him just to anger me."

I glanced at Evan rolling around in the grass nearby.

Julian said all this right in front of him, without any pretense.

"Prince Julian, Prince Evan is your brother. Could you show him some respect?"

Julian was too furious to listen. "Claire, you know I've loved you since we were children. Even if Lily entered the household first, I would never truly care for her. If you'd just endured half a year at home, I could have taken you in and made you my principal wife."

What kind of scumbag talk was this?

"How do you know I married him to spite you?" I fanned myself leisurely. "As your wife, I'd have to fight a crowd of women for my husband. As Evan's wife, I'm his only woman. What's wrong with marrying into this household? I did it willingly. I'm not sulking over anyone."

Julian was taken aback, then suddenly grabbed my arm.

The wounds Lily's nail guards had left had just barely scabbed over. His grip hurt like hell.

As a villainess, getting entangled with the male lead would only end badly.

I gritted my teeth. "I'm your sister-in-law now. Show some respect!"

Julian's eyes were red, and he wouldn't let go. "Marrying a simpleton willingly? You really have gone mad."

I pulled my arm back without hesitation. "Coming here to argue with a madwoman—you're not exactly sane yourself, Prince Julian."

"Claire, you'll regret this!"

Julian stormed off, treating Evan like air the entire time, not even glancing at him.

I lay back down on the ground.

Great. Now I'd offended the male lead too.

Suddenly, a shadow blocked the sun.

I opened my eyes to see a garish face hovering above me—Evan was rocking a half-orange, half-green look today, surprisingly fashionable.

The number above his head had jumped to nearly three hundred thousand, rivaling Julian's.

Was this mysterious number the "cuckold index"?

I pushed him away. "Move. You're blocking my sun."

Evan stared at me, shaking his head. "You're pathetic."

I shot back, "Not as pathetic as you."

Evan hit a sore spot. "Are you going to cry?"

"I don't want to cry over such a small thing..."

I grabbed Evan's robe and clenched it into a fist.

I wasn't the real Claire. I had no feelings for Julian. But my heart ached anyway.

Tears fell uncontrollably.

I didn't understand—was this my own pent-up frustration, or the real Claire's lingering sorrow?

Evan leaned down. "You really are crying?"

I ignored him and cried harder.

Evan didn't pull his robe away. After a long pause, he clumsily placed his hand on my head and patted gently. "There, there."

Just like he did with his favorite little hound.

I grabbed his hand and moved it to my back. "Pat here."

7

The ninth day arrived, and I packed up to return home for the customary visit.

Prince Evan's mansion was as shabby as Evan himself. The storeroom had nothing decent left.

I suspected someone was embezzling, but I had no proof.

To make a decent showing, I'd probably have to sell the mansion's property.

I was considering taking the palace's tonics as gifts when Evan came by with his little hound and took all the medicine away. He patted the dog's head and said, "Pet the dog's head every day, and you'll never worry about food or drink."

Exactly how he'd patted my head that day.

I hesitated for a long time before speaking. "Evan, about today's visit..."

"I'm ready. We can leave now."

I fidgeted with my sleeves. "No, I mean... could you not come? I'll tell Father you're sick."

"Oh. You're afraid I'll embarrass you."

Evan was simple-minded, but not completely clueless.

Evan's mother was Lady Grace. In her early years at the palace, she'd been the Emperor's favorite, unmatched in favor. Despite the envy she drew, the Emperor never promoted her rank, so no one dared make a move against her.

Evan was said to have been clever as a child, often sitting on the Emperor's knee. That was when others couldn't sit still anymore.

On his ninth birthday, Evan was poisoned. Even though he was saved, he became dull and sluggish, unable to even recognize his own family.

Lady Grace had suffered complications from childbirth and couldn't have more children. When Evan lost his mind, she fell into madness from grief and threw herself into a well the following spring.

Perhaps it was because Evan had stayed away from palace intrigues all these years that he'd become somewhat clearer, his behavior more normal than before.

"It's not that I'm afraid you'll embarrass me. My aunts and sisters are all waiting to laugh at me. If you come, they'll point and whisper, and it'll hurt you..."

Before I could finish, Evan had already run off after his little hound.

His figure swayed as he ran, looking pitiful.

I sighed and called after him, "Stay home and behave! I'll buy you candy when I get back!"

8

My carriage rattled to a stop at the corner of the Ashford mansion's alley. Someone from the house came out and led the horses to the back street.

"What's going on?"

"The Second Miss is having her grand wedding today. The front gate is busy. The Prime Minister said to take the First Miss through the back door to avoid interfering with the procession."

So Julian had chosen today for his wedding, knowing full well it was my day for the customary visit. He'd done it on purpose.

I won't get angry. I won't get angry. Getting angry won't do me any good.

"Back door it is. Let's go."

Just then, I heard a horse whinny. A flash of red and green came galloping toward us, crashing straight into the wedding procession.

"Move! Everyone move!"

The procession scattered, dowry chests falling everywhere, musical instruments abandoned.

"Whose horse dares to cause trouble at the Prime Minister's mansion!"

The old servant hobbled after it, panting. "Don't... don't attack! That's Prince Evan!"

I looked again. The fashionably mismatched figure on the horse was none other than my simpleton husband, Evan.

The horse reared up before the bridal sedan, kicking and neighing wildly. One hoof kicked the sedan door off, another shattered a redwood bench. Evan wailed on the horse's back while everyone around panicked, afraid of being kicked and afraid of him falling.

"The horse is out of control! Should we rope it?"

I shouted, "Be careful with my husband! If he falls, who's going to pay for that?"

The horse struggled for two incense sticks' time before finally tiring. Evan, lucky fool that he was, seemed glued to the horse's back and somehow didn't fall off.

The broken sedan and missed auspicious hour were already bad omens.

Lily, who was about to board the sedan, was so frightened she refused to get on.

"Evan, didn't you say you weren't coming?"

"The old servant said I had to accompany you on the visit, or you'd be bullied." Evan was still shaken. "But when I reached the alley, the horse heard the drums and firecrackers and spooked..."

I burst out laughing.

What goes around comes around.

"Come inside. You scared me to death." Evan tugged my sleeve, the number above his head shining brightly at 387,613. "I shouldn't have come. I embarrassed you."

"You didn't embarrass me. You made me proud." I took his hand and walked through the front gate of the Ashford mansion.

Evan tugged my sleeve again and pressed a small box into my hand. "This is for your father."

I recognized the box. It held his shuttlecock, his colorful ball, and his picture books.

"Evan, my father is too old for shuttlecocks and balls."

"The shuttlecock and ball are my treasures. I'm not giving them to him." Evan lifted his garish face proudly. "I only give him things that aren't valuable."

"What's not valuable?"

A pearl glowed like moonlight, round and flawless like a star.

It was a night pearl the size of a chicken egg.

"Why are you so surprised? Father gave me plenty of these. Mother had piles of them under her bed."

Shut up, you humble-bragging weirdo.

9

Despite the missed auspicious hour, Lily married that day.

Prince Julian valued appearances. He said Lily had suffered a miscarriage and a fright, so he rewarded her with jewels and tonics and promised at the wedding banquet to treat her well.

That night, the Warrington mansion set off fireworks, announcing it to the whole city.

It was the grand wedding scene of the male and female leads. The banquet was lively, and Lily was the center of attention, the envy of every unmarried girl in the city.

Evan saw me watching the fireworks from the porch and asked, "Are you jealous?"

I shook my head.

Evan looked disdainful. "I don't believe you."

I really wasn't jealous. I was worried.

Evan's night pearl had stunned the entire Ashford household. If Lily saw it when she returned for her visit, there would be trouble.

Since ancient times, villainesses who stole the heroine's thunder always got slapped in the face later.

I worried for days, but it was all for nothing. Lily never came back for her visit.

The Warrington mansion said she was unwell. The Ashfords sent people to check on her, but they weren't allowed to see her. Father worried something had happened, so he went to Claire's mother, who then came to me.

"Claire, go visit Lily. Sisters visiting each other is only natural. Surely Prince Julian won't refuse."

In other words, they were counting on Julian's lingering feelings for Claire. Even if he kicked me out, it would embarrass the Prince Evan's mansion, not the Ashfords'.

"Claire, I know this is hard for you, but I have no choice. I'm the legitimate wife, but I have no son. I have to live carefully. If your father gets angry, I won't be able to explain..."

"Fine. I'll go."

On the way to the Warrington mansion, I heard that Julian had taken a concubine—Lily entered through the front gate, the concubine through the back.

Not only on the same day, but Julian hadn't even entered Lily's room on their wedding night.

Lily had just miscarried, so it made sense, but leaving your legitimate wife alone on the wedding night was still cold.

Afraid of messing with the heroine's love line, I deliberately chose a day when Julian wasn't home to visit.

The servants at the Warrington mansion were all polite and respectful to me, far more professional than the ones at Evan's place.

Two concubines in flashy clothes were playing in the garden. Lily sat alone in a corner, watching flowers and fish, dressed plainly without any of the dignity of a Princess.

The number above Lily's head had dropped to around thirty thousand—an all-time low. The two concubines were thriving, one at over seventy thousand, the other at over ninety thousand.

Did this number represent luck?

I stood before Lily. "Don't you feel wronged?"

"Who told me I'm a concubine's daughter? I can't blame anyone. Prince Julian making me his legitimate wife was already beneath his dignity. I'm grateful. Everything I did was willing. I don't need you stirring up trouble and feeling sorry for me."

"Stirring up trouble?"

"Don't think I can't see it. You've become the laughingstock of the Capital City since marrying that simpleton. You're desperate for Prince Julian to change his mind and take you in." Lily sneered. "You didn't come to see me today. You came hoping to see the Prince. Too bad. He's at the palace. Disappointed?"

Lily actually said that. The heroine's character was completely ruined.

I couldn't tell if she was being sincere or putting on an act.

Lily smiled at me. "Just keep your simpleton Prince, Sister. Stay out of my business."

If Lily was happy, I had nothing to say. But her smile was sinister, sending chills down my spine.

I returned to the mansion and saw Evan as soon as I entered.

Good grief. Today's theme was "Spring Festival festive." He looked like he was about to perform a lion dance.

"Why are you standing here?" I tilted my head, holding back a laugh. "Afraid I wouldn't buy you candy?"

"I wasn't waiting for candy. I was waiting for you." Evan looked a little wronged. "You like Julian. I was afraid you wouldn't come back."

I was taken aback.

The simpleton actually understood these things.

"Who said I like Julian?" I bit my lip and took his hand. "If you don't want me to go, I won't go again."

10

Prince Julian's concubine died—the one with the higher number.

Her body was pulled from the garden pond, bloated beyond recognition. Her number had dropped to zero.

Lily stood behind, her number now only four digits.

Her expression was indifferent, but her eyes held contempt, as if she'd expected it.

I trembled.

I'd guessed the number represented luck—the higher the number, the stronger the person's fortune.

But a tree that stands out in the forest is doomed to be felled by the wind. If someone's luck was too strong and got in others' way, they'd be the first to be killed.

Then what about Evan? A despised simpleton Prince—why was his luck so high?

That didn't seem to fit either.

I tried a few more times. Sure enough, whenever I interacted with Evan, both our numbers went up.

If the problem wasn't with him, it had to be with me.

For the next week, I completely avoided Evan, even eating and sleeping at different times.

Even so, my number kept rising.

In autumn, the Ashfords held their ancestral rites. All the married daughters returned home.

I, the Prime Minister's legitimate daughter, was actually living contentedly with a simpleton Prince. Everyone who heard about it sighed.

When I went home to report, my aunts and cousins congratulated me to my face but laughed at me behind my back. Claire's mother couldn't even lift her head.

I heard that Julian's remaining concubine had fallen ill with a strange disease—her skin was peeling off in sheets. Julian was horrified and had her wrapped in a mat and thrown out to the wild wolves.

Only Lily remained in the Warrington mansion.

Lily had won Julian's exclusive favor and was pregnant again.

Now, when she returned home, she was the center of attention. No one dared cross her.

Daphne, the daughter of the Fourth Concubine, openly mocked me. "Sister Lily is the legitimate wife and pregnant. It looks like our household will produce an Empress after all. Even if you're just a concubine, you could at least become a lady or a talented woman. People can be dizzy, but they can't be blind. What's the point of fighting for pride? Don't you think so, Sister Claire?"

I fanned myself calmly. "To each their own. She wants power. I want to be Prince Evan's one and only wife. We both have bright futures."

"Oh? Does Sister really think anyone would want your simpleton Prince?" Daphne rolled her eyes. "Give it up. You're just inflating the price of a pig!"

The room was full of chattering women, the air thick with perfume. I felt suffocated and went outside to get some air.

I'd just found a place to sit when I sensed someone beside me.

"Claire, why are you out here alone?"

It was Prince Julian again.

I looked up. The number above his head was a blazing red, nearly five hundred thousand.

Before I could respond, my own number went up.

I was annoyed.

Damn it. Interacting with Evan raised my number. Interacting with Julian raised it too. Was I destined to die a miserable death?

I steeled myself and put on a stern face. "Prince Julian, shouldn't you be with your wife instead of chatting with your sister-in-law?"

"I heard what the women were saying about you. You have too much pride to endure humiliation. How can you bear such disgrace?" Julian paused. "If you regret it, I'll let you come back. I won't hold your marriage to my brother against you."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm truly honored that you still think of me, Prince Julian."

"I keep my promises. In my future harem, there will be a place for you. Even if you want to be Empress, it's not impossible..."

"Prince Julian, do you really love Claire?" I fanned myself gently. "Be honest. Do you miss Claire, or can't you stand losing to a simpleton?"

Julian's face darkened.

"The Emperor is still healthy. The Crown Prince's position is still secure. Promising me a place in your harem is treason. If anyone hears you, it will cause trouble." I warned him kindly. "A tree that stands out in the forest is doomed. You should keep a low profile."

"Father is old. The Crown Prince doesn't have much time. They'll both be gone soon. What's mine will be mine." Julian's smile turned sinister. "That simpleton too. When he's gone, you'll still be mine."

I didn't want to argue anymore. I turned and went to find Evan.

Evan was crouched by the pond, feeding the fish.

Lily stood nearby, her pregnant belly protruding, watching Evan with a smile.

I crept closer and heard her talking to him. "Prince Evan, you're so childlike and kind to animals. I remember when we first met, I fell and bled, and you gently blew on my wound..."

"Sister is lucky to have you." Lily looked up and saw me. She twisted her body and changed her tone. "Oh!"

Evan, with his back to her, was pushed by her and fell into the lotus pond.

"Help! Claire! Save me!" Evan flailed in the water, utterly pathetic.

"Lily, what are you doing!"

I knew Evan was afraid of water. Panicked, I jumped in without thinking.

"I slipped and pushed him! It was an accident!" Lily's tears came on command. Her acting was flawless.

Luckily, the pond wasn't deep.

I dragged Evan out. When I looked back, Lily had disappeared.

The servants gathered around and hurried us inside.

They fussed over us, but behind their hands, they were all laughing.

We sat shivering by the fire, having lost all face.

"What does Lily want? If she has a problem with me, fine. But why drag you into it?" I wiped Evan's hair with a cloth, cursing. "Slipped, my foot. She did it on purpose! If she weren't pregnant, I wouldn't have let her get away with it..."

Evan didn't say anything. He just looked at me and smiled, his eyes sparkling in the firelight like dark flames.

I looked at his broad shoulders and the elegant curve of his neck and swallowed.

I must be crazy. I was actually having improper thoughts about a simpleton with a painted face.

Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him gently.

"Claire?" Evan covered his mouth in shock. "What... what are you doing?"

"Nothing... I just wanted to see if you were sick." I'd kissed my own husband, but my heart was pounding like I'd done something wrong. I stared at the ceiling, pretending nothing had happened.

Evan pulled me by the waist and held me tight.

A kiss landed on my lips.

"But your face is hot. Claire, I think you're the one who's sick..."

11

I wasn't sick. I was poisoned.

The poison was strange. When it flared up, I had splitting headaches, alternating between fever and chills. My hands, feet, and eyelids twitched uncontrollably.

Evan didn't know how to stand up for me. He just stayed by my side, calling my name over and over.

"Claire... Claire..."

"Stop calling. I'm fine." During a moment of clarity, I forced out a reply through the pain. "Is this how you suffered when you were poisoned?"

Evan